Avengers: Morning Rituals
by xXFissshBonesssXx
Summary: OT6 Clint/Bruce/Thor/Steve/Natasha/Tony , hints of Thor/Loki - drabble - A look at the sleeping habits and morning rituals of the Earth's mightiest heroes.
1. The Magnet Approach

**MORNING RITUALS**

Avengers OT6 (Clint/Bruce/Thor/Steve/Natasha/Tony), hint of Thor/Loki - drabble - the sleeping habits of Earth's response team. Rated for references to mature situations

* * *

Tony Stark is rich beyond reason. Really. He has outrageous amounts of money and with said money has purchased every luxury available, including mattresses with silk from egypt stuffed with feathers of birds from the endangered species top ten list. He has the most costly blankets money can buy, with threads from India and embroidery so delicate it physically hurts to think of abusing it, the most comfortable sheets, and in spite of all this, probably directly due to this very fact, no one ever _uses_ Tony's sheets.

The six of them are clumped together on some nameless brand of futons from Wal-Mart, sharing three mismatched blankets decorated by necessity with hideous fraying patchwork, limbs akimbo in a great graceless sprawl.

There was a general order decided long ago but mostly they take the magnet approach; Thor lies down first, and everyone lies down around him after. The demi-god's arms are broad and big enough to be pillows for at least four other people.

Steve likes to curl against the big guy's side so he doesn't crush anyone if he happens to roll over, and this generally works out since they're the biggest guys in the room. Whenever Steve gets nightmares he is literally in Thor's arms and can be tamed back to calmer dreams.

That, and both he and Thor drop off before anyone else, and make good starting points for a pile.

Either Banner or Stark slip in after, sometimes at the same time, still exchanging quiet murmurs all in their own language (usually english disguised as physics).

They used to fall asleep forehead to forehead, still murmuring in the dark. Stark has a habit of sprawling, though, and after a few ruinous accidental slaps to Banner around 1 AM, he's banished to the other side of the pile. He can sleep-slap Steve all he likes and Steve doesn't even twitch.

Sometimes he misses and hits Thor, and wakes up in the morning with a bruise on his hand.

Natasha and Clint are last into the pile and last to leave in the morning. No one really knows when they slip between Thor and Banner. Tony claims he saw them one night at 2 AM when he got up for a glass of water. Natasha denies everything and Clint denies nothing, making one of them the liar, but no one cares enough to figure out which of them it is.

They cleave to each other in sleep, usually with Natasha's head nodding into Thor's abdomen and Clint's arms around her waist or hips, but always with his back to Banner. It's some unspoken agreement that it's best for Banner to remain on the outskirts of the pile in case anyone sleep-wallops him in the face, but Clint is a rock when he's unconscious, and Banner has found the unmoving muscle wall of Clint's back a secure place to rest his own.

* * *

There are some nights, though they are erratic to predict and incredibly rare, when Thor gets up gingerly, apologizing to everyone in a gentle rumble like thunder rolling in the distance, and takes just his cape to the roof.

No one needs to ask why he goes, and Tony usually doesn't forget to tell JARVIS to cancel the alarm.


	2. Tony

**MORNING RITUALS**

Avengers OT6 (Clint/Bruce/Thor/Steve/Natasha/Tony), hint of Thor/Loki - drabble - the sleeping habits of Earth's response team. Rated for references to mature situations

**A/N:** Somehow this kept on going. Related but not carried on directly from the previous chapter.

* * *

_Tony_

* * *

Everything should be fluffy. That's the first thing that Tony thinks as he dislodges his arm from under something heavy to rub the rest of his dream out of his eyes. Everything is not fluffy and he is 99.99% certain that he went to sleep last night across several of the most outrageously dense feather boas and no less than four Japanese love pillows. The previous day's fight had called for experimental amounts of alcohol and Tony sleeps like a brick wherever he falls asleep and therefore everything should be fluffy and deliciously soft and comfortable.

Except it's not.

Giving his eyes another experimental rub he goes to twist his neck to get a view of whatever is digging into his deltoids and runs his forehead into Bruce's nose.

The good doctor barely budges as Tony upsets his glasses.

That makes sense, though, because Bruce is still mostly unconscious and is gracious enough not to Hulk out less than four inches from Tony's face. It's happened a handful of times and it is never pleasant. But that doesn't matter as much as Tony remembering distinctly falling asleep without anyone else in the room.

Tony tilts his head as the rest of him follows in consciousness and suddenly he is aware of just now not-fluffy his surroundings have become. There are no feather boas. There are legs. And arms. And torsos. Lots of torsos.

Thor's, for instance, he discovers as he looks directly down between the divide between himself and Bruce. There's a thigh pressed against his lower back that can only be Natasha's. That's Clint's firing arm against his ribcage, he can feel the man's forearm flex even in sleep. He gives his toes an experimental flex and comes across another plane of flesh.

There are people all over his person.

"Not my least favorite position to wake up in," he mumbled into Thor's chest.

Across from him, Bruce blinked awake. Tony turned his head slightly and offered the other scientist a questioning glance.

From somewhere around Tony's waist a pair of hands came up searchingly. He jumped at the contact as they palmed his hip at the bone. "Could you," came Steve's sleepy request, "Just. A little, just. Scoot." Tony wondered which part of his body he was supposed to maneuver to acquiesce to this request. The Captain seemed to know, though, and his hands easily picked up Tony by his center of gravity and shifted him just enough. Bruce blinked awake as Tony's head pressed into his shoulder.

"Hi." The doctor offered Tony a drowsy smile.

"Hey there," Tony murmured into Bruce's neck, "So good to see you, as always, Bruce."

"Same," Bruce murmured, and by the dropping of his voice, Tony realized he was heading back to a mid-morning doze. He wiggled his arm out from under someone's leg to poke at Bruce's shoulder and keep him awake. "Hey, _hey_. Stay with me a minute." Bruce squirmed and Thor rumbled warmly beneath both of them as he roused, a pleasant shudder beneath their stomachs.

"Good Morrow, friend Banner, friend Stark."

"Good Morning, Thor," Tony said quietly, mindful of the pile's other potential occupants and their pre-conscious states of being. It must've been a little uncomfortable to have two full grown Midgardians slung across your stomach and chest. Tony would have suggested that they could slide off at any time. He would have, but then something heavy draped across his back, and from the quiet whuff of air Bruce gave a second later, he could safely assume that Thor was hugging them, and no, they were not going to need to move.

"Someone's foot is on my elbow," Natasha mentioned from behind Bruce.

"Sorry," Steve murmured from somewhere beyond Tony's calf, and the entire mass of limbs shifted. _He must be at the bottom, _Tony thought after the small quake ceased.

There was something wrong about the angle of his left arm that Tony knew he should be attempting to shift if he didn't want a wicked crick in the muscle but the way someone was using it as a pillow put him off it. For another minute or two, at least, he thought as he nuzzled further into Bruce's shoulder. Bruce gave an answering shrug as he worked his own head into the crook of Tony's neck and shoulder. Beneath the both of them Thor's chest heaved gently with a deep inhale.

Someone by Tony's feet groaned pleasantly. "God, are those your ankles?"

"Maybe."

Clint made another moan that Tony privately thought belonged exclusively in a porno. "You have the most _comfortable_ bony ankles I've ever had stuck under my back."

His arm slipped away from Tony's ribs and he lost track of the archer in the pile. Someone else was nuzzling into Thor's hip near his elbows. Probably Natasha, from the angle. Then again Natasha could be anywhere and it would be completely plausible for her limbs to be on the opposite side of the pile entirely.

"Is that what's pressing up into my back?"

"Those are my knees," Thor confirmed happily.

Tony wiggled his own feet again. Steve's hand came back up and caught his hip in a silent plea to stop. Tony stopped but Steve kept his hand there. The billionaire made a noise of content and turned his attention back to the nearly sleeping scientist at his shoulder.

"So. How did we end up here again?"

"Shhhh," Bruce hissed, "Too loud."

Tony turned it down and whispered the question verbatim. This time Bruce shrugged, bumping with his shoulder and nudging their heads closer by accident as Thor made a sleepy hum, "Don't remember. Stop talking."

Natasha hummed her agreement from Tony's side and her leg slid down against the back of his thigh.

"Okay."

There was peace in the pile at last.

They drifted in and out of sleep for a few minutes without moving beyond the occasional slow inflation of someone breathing. Tony distantly still wanted his question answered. He found that, lying stretched against half of Thor, with his face in Bruce's shoulder, with Clint laying across his ankles and Natasha's leg slung over his, with Steve's hands sitting loosely at his hips, that it didn't really matter how they had ended up here. All he knew as he sleepily started back into a pretty lovely dream that he was here. And here was where he wanted to be.

Until about three minutes later.

"Friend Steve," Thor's curious rumble plucked everyone out of almost-sleep again, despite his most concentrated effort to speak without being heard, "is this a part of Midgardian morning rituals?"

"No," came a horrified groan from the bottom of the pile, "Oh God. I'm sorry, Thor. Just. Just ignore it, please. It'll go away."

"What," Tony mumbled good-naturedly as the pile began to shift again, presumably caused by Steve at the bottom of everyone trying to shift himself out from under Thor, who was surprisingly chill about being on top of another dude's lap when he was at half-mast, "Don't tell me Asgardians are immune to a little morning wood?"

"I am afraid I do not understand the colloquialism," Thor confessed after a moment's pause, "We have no need for immunity against forests on Asgard."

Clint snickered.

"Can you guys stop moving?" Steve asked, his voice controlled and his fingertips digging into Tony's hips hard. "Gonna leave some lovely bruises if you hold on any harder," Stark warned with a smirk.

The Captain groaned and punched his hip. The resulting jolt knocked Tony and Bruce's heads together.

Bruce rolled his head into Tony's shoulder. "Can you guys keep it down?"

"It's not my fault Steve's being a baby about his stiffy."

Thor hummed inquiringly and Natasha explained the saying from somewhere off to the left of Tony's thigh. "It refers to the condition of the male species to be aroused seemingly without cause, usually occurring in the morning, hence 'morning wood'."

"Tony, can you move your leg?"

"Ah. Thank you, Lady Widow," Thor murmured. "Alas, we are similarly afflicted by such a condition. Though it would appear that this morning the affliction has chosen but one of us to befall."

"Why's he got to move," Clint nearly whined, "Thor's on top of the Cap, not Tony. Leave 'im alone."

"Just because you've got his ankles doesn't mean you get to dictate where the rest of him goes," Natasha pointed out, "Besides, I've got his thighs. He's not going anywhere."

"Guys, it's really not that big of a deal," Tony said, squirming beneath several people's limbs and Clint's waist, "I can just lift up for a second so the Cap can move his junk out from under Thor's ass-"

Bruce _growled. _

Everyone stopped talking.

"Quiet," he said a few moments later, in a slightly subdued tone, "Please."

They settled back where they were, Steve biting his lip against a whine as the weight of the pile plus Thor slide back against his lap, but after a few blissfully silent and still minutes following the doctor's warning rumble he could finally relax. The pile seemed to deflate entirely after that.

Tony stared at the line where Bruce's neck melded against Thor's chest as he listened to everyone's breathing. Clint and Natasha were predictably inaudible but he could feel them both as parts of them were tucked against him. The archer's back expanded shallowly but slow, indicating he was on the edge of consciousness. Natasha's leg pressed against his every now and then when she nuzzled Thor's hip. Steve was free of his embarrassing condition to Tony's short-lived regret and was back to steady and slow, monotonous as a metronome, something constant and secure at the base of everyone. Thor was out like a light, drawing deep breaths incredibly slow, though his arms still lay across his and Bruce's backs.

There was this moment of clarity for Tony in the middle of the pile of limbs and laid out across a god's chest, with Bruce's hair tickling his cheek and Natasha's leg sliding down the back of his thigh, with Barton at his ankles and Steve at his hip, that this was exactly where he_ belonged. _

_So this is what it's like,_ he thought distantly as sleep came back for a second round. _Feels good. In a bony, gonna-have-a-wicked-crick-in-my-arm-in-three-hours, never-gonna-have-any-personal-space-ever-again kind of way._

Bruce shifted in a dream, snuggling deeper against Tony's shoulder.

He was used to spending hours, no scratch that,_ days_ at a time holed up with JARVIS and Dummy for company, foregoing human contact with anyone but Pepper or occasionally Happy or Rhodey if he was pushing seven days without real sustenance outside of coffee and doughnuts.

He was currently person-deep in a people pile.

He knew for a fact that when Steve slunk out from under everyone that there would be waffles and whenever Thor let him and Bruce loose there would also be coffee.

Tony figured he could trade off personal space for a permanent spot in the pile.

* * *

**A/N:** (: I think, I'll just keep writing drabbles like this. They're fun. And they fill me up with schmoopy OT6 feels.


	3. Goodnight Moon

**Series/Setting: **Avengers, post-film

**Pairings:** Thor/everyone, everyone/everyone, all your OT6/7/8 feels and thensome. No Loki this time :C He'll star in the next OTAvengers feels fill/fic.

**Warnings:** Some tense jumps, from present to past to present again because I'm hella inconsistent like that, apologies in advance. I don't know how to categorize or label potential emotional trauma you'll get from reading this, I might've said/written something incredibly offensive and no one's called me on it yet, so all the apologies in advance.

**A/N:** This is the most fun I've had with an Avengers OT# feels project. I hope you enjoy it.

* * *

_Goodnight Moon_

* * *

Everyone expects Thor to be doting when he announces his intentions to start 'courting the Lady Foster' and it's as surprising as the sun rising in the morning when he lives up to these expectations. It quickly becomes the norm to see the Asgardian god resting on the couch with his Lady's head leaned into his massive shoulders, the two of them murmuring things for just each other to hear, sharing secret smiles right out in the open for everyone else to see. Precisely no one is surprised when Thor takes to holding Jane's hand more often than couples do, or when Jane starts to become a regular face around Avengers HQ. She is a scientist and a force of reckoning in her own right, and she slots so easily into the team's off-day dynamics that Clint wonders if Fury hasn't got a Jane Foster sized uniform hidden away in some back closet.

Everyone is used to Thor's larger-than-life presence and everyone just kind of assumes that of course he'll dote on Jane.

It's in his nature to be affectionate, they assume, and although no one is wrong, they maybe don't realize just how right they are.

No one can remember when it became a custom but everyone remembers it started with Thor. There are a lot of cultural differences between Asgard and Midgard but Thor's easy attitude leads to smooth cultural bleeds and because Thor fails to make anything awkward, everyone fails to realize that the lines are being blurred.

They usually finish battles in good moods because they're the Avengers, Earth's mightiest heroes, and no one minds being knocked over by Thor's congratulatory back-thumps. Bruce is the only one who can take the thump without so much as a wobble but only when he's green. Everyone else just kind of gets used to expecting being walloped on the back as a sign of a battle well-won.

And then it starts happening around HQ.

Tony helps Bruce determine a particularly annoying equation down to the decimals and doesn't think it strange for tepid Bruce to smirk in triumph and clap his shoulder.

Steve sets up a training course in the gym for the spy and the assassin over the course of the day, and at the end he's sweating and sore, but two hands administer thumps to his back and Steve's suddenly wearing a shit-eating-grin.

Coulson surprises them at a briefing and brings everyone coffee, and raises an eyebrow when they take it in turns to pat him on the back. Tony catches his look and watches Bruce take his latte with a firm pat to Coulson's back, and it clicks. He throws Thor a glance but the Asgardian is preoccupied by his cup of coffee and by the time Tony can catch his eye Fury has wandered in to begin the briefing.

Jane and Thor still occupy the couch together and the way they bend their heads to meet, whispering warm things that can only barely be made out around the brightness in their eyes and in their smiles, it's hard not to look on with envy. They just seem so happy, all the time, for no apparent reason.

And then Thor starts to share the couch.

On long days after hours in the gym, Steve likes to unwind in front of the TV, which is directly in front of the couch. Thor also likes to unwind and Steve doesn't notice when they start, but he's distantly aware of how much smaller the couch seems over time. He has an entire cushion to himself early on but not for long. They bump knees, brush thighs, until one day Thor sits down and Steve throws an arm back to accommodate Thor leaning into his side. They're turning on Netflix before Steve registers that the way they're sitting can be construed as cuddling. But then they have to pick from a string of unfamiliar titles, and trying to decide between _'The Lion King'_ and something only labeled as _'Up'_ is suddenly more important than wondering if they shouldn't give each other a little more space on the couch.

Halfway through the film, when the young Lion prince is joined by a pig and a red-haired rat, Steve and Thor are joined by Tony. Steve jumps, remembering how they must look, but Tony drops a bowl of popcorn in Thor's lap and deposits himself on the opposite side of the Asgardian. Thor throws an arm up so Tony can get as close as Steve without looking away from the screen. Then the singing starts, and everyone leans back into the couch cushions.

"I should feel guilty," Clint says one day. Thor looks up from the magazine he's got spread across Clint's abs.

"For what, sheildbrother?"

Clint's lips purse as he turns the thought over in his head. Bruce flips the channel to the TV contentedly, a hand in the Archer's hair. Natasha is rewrapping the medical tape on his ankle, his feet in her lap. He's splayed straight across the three of them wearing a pair of shorts and the tape Natasha is wrapping.

"I said should," Clint clarifies, shutting his eyes as Bruce's hand rolls against his scalp. Thor flips a page in his magazine and Natasha finishes wrapping his feet. His ankles stay in her lap even after Bruce's documentary ends.

* * *

It's okay, because it's little things that no one ever thought of.

It's leaning into shoulders and letting people lean back.

It's fingers folding over the back of a hand and staying there longer than strictly necessary.

It's casual and slow, and seems so incredibly natural that no one notices it.

* * *

Natasha and Tony are in the kitchen with Thor working off a print out in an attempt to put together some culinary rarity known only by its codename, _'Dagwood'_. They're arguing over which layer of cheese the lobster is supposed to sit. Natasha is gesturing to the diagram, Tony is trying to balance the crustacean on top of a noodle layer, when Thor loops his arms under Tony's and catches him in a bear-hug from behind. Tony jumps and Natasha manages to catch the lobster before it topples the sandwich over on its side.

"Don't scare me like that," Tony admonishes, patting the massive forearm pressed across his abdomen.

"I apologize," Thor rumbles good-naturedly, and presses his lips to the base of Tony's neck.

Natasha drops the lobster.

Tony is blinking straight ahead because _was that a kiss_ and _what the hell_ are fighting for the front space in his head, but Thor has let him go and is mournfully gathering up the red remains of a key part of their project up off the kitchen floor. Natasha is helping him with the bits of broken seafood but spares Tony a glance. Her expression says the same things Tony is wondering.

They don't ask Thor about it and think nothing of it. It was late, they were tired and trying to relax, and no one wants to ask uncomfortable questions.

But they discover it's not just one incident.

Clint was coming down from the rafters and instead of climbing all the way called 'heads up' and threw himself directly over Thor who happened to be passing by. The Asgardian cried out in surprised delight and gave the Archer an easy landing in warm arms. Before Clint could climb down, though, he was squeezed and spun in a manner not unlike that of a Princess in the arms of a Prince, and he remembered being distinctly dizzy in more ways than one when Thor finally set him on his own feet.

Steve remembers a time Thor boxed his ears a bit too roughly during a spar and then apologized by landing a kiss where he'd landed his fists. They'd kept right on rolling with their match afterwards so Steve had quite nearly forgotten. One kiss in the middle of trying not to get your teeth knocked out isn't really something all so memorable, apparently.

Bruce wonders if they're not pushing it.

"I don't think so," Clint says over coffee. Natasha turns her cup in hand. Tony's hand is on the back of his neck.

"Maybe it's a cultural thing," Steve says diplomatically, though he's fighting with the words as he says them, "Maybe they're a little more touchy-feely on Asgard."

"Touchy-feely?" Tony snorts, "Really, Cap'n? That could've been a little more eloquent-"

"I'm thinking about Jane," Bruce says, and they all stare at their cups for a while.

* * *

But it can't be Jane, because Thor and Jane are still a thing. They're still a out-in-the-open thing, an unavoidable thing that happens in the hallways, at breakfast over pop-tarts and hot cereal, and in all the moments in between. Thor still reserves his broadest smiles for when he has Jane in his arms and nothing else exists but the two of them. And Jane being around so much just makes everyone that much more guilty when Thor is around without her.

And despite how uncertain everyone is about the extra affection, they're not about to ask Thor to stop outright, because it's kind of nice.

His arms are big and warm and he's happy to hold onto his teammates seemingly without a reason beyond just because.

Steve is on the couch when Thor sits down beside him, and there's actually enough room for him to stretch without running into the Asgardian. And it's weird, so Steve leans over without asking and Thor shifts so his chest is to the soldier's back. He doesn't remember to feel guilt until Thor changes the channel and lays his arm across Steve's front. He glances up at Thor's face but the god is completely occupied by the flashing colors and light of the TV screen. Steve stares up a moment longer, considering, and then lets out a long breath and doesn't ask Thor to move his arm. It feels too nice.

Natasha and Bruce like to curl on either side of Thor wherever he sits with a book or a cup of hot tea and stay there for hours. Bruce knows Natasha has read the Xanth series four times through but she doesn't say anything when he finishes his cup and doesn't get up after he sets it aside, so neither does he. The redhead likes to have her shoulders to Thor's bicep or abdomen. Bruce prefers to lean into Thor's back or rest with his cheek to the other man's thigh. The solid planes of flesh over muscle are comfortable in a way he can't explain. Thor is happy to offer his body to his quieter teammates and they don't have the selflessness to refuse him if he also rests a hand or his head on them in turn.

Tony and Clint are arguing over something stupid because arguing is fun and it's _easy_. They trade sharp words without ever meaning any real harm. Thor comes in with a look on his face like he's been in the middle of that kind of argument before, knows the bickering tone his friends have adopted, probably from centuries of having the god of mischief for a brother.

He walks right up to both of them and hefts them at the hips without so much as a warning.

Tony scrambles as his feet leave the floor but Clint just goes '_woah_' and latches onto his shoulders as Thor walks out of the kitchen with both full-grown men in his grip.

Tony eventually stops struggling and asks where they're going. Clint quips that they'll find out when they get there and ducks as Tony reaches across Thor's broad back to swat at him. Thor's arm squeezes minutely against Tony and the billionaire squeaks. Clint's snickering is cut short when Thor arrives at the edge of the gym pool and he tosses both men in without further ado.

Dripping wet, they stare in disbelief as the blonde god calmly tells them to cool their heads. They share a silent conference and tear out of the water, sopping wet, and tackle Thor from behind.

They're soaked and snarling and exchanging the best of their mock-battle-cries when they roll right to Jane's feet.

Clint and Tony still like they've been petrified.

They are half-naked, dripping wet, tangled up in the woman's _boyfriend_-

But Jane is snickering and stepping around them, a warning in the air to watch out for the walls (so you don't break them with your roughhousing) and she's walking past them to get to the changing rooms, swimsuit in hand.

They don't get a chance to ask Thor about it because as soon as she starts away Thor cries '_FOR ASGARD_' and tosses Tony into the pool.

Clint avenges Tony by tackling Thor at the knees and throws them both into the water after the billionaire.

* * *

"What are you working on?"

"Playing with fire," Tony says, not looking up from the screen.

Steve wanders closer and glances over everything.

"Looks complicated," he observes, and lands his hip on the side of Tony's chair. Tony's fingers continue to fly across the touch pad uninterrupted.

"Child's play," Tony rambles, reaching up to drag an image across the screen and dump it in the trash bin, "It won't take long. If you're coming to get me for dinner don't bother, I've got JARVIS and some of Seattle's Best."

"The others are starting without us," Steve says, and he drops his elbow to Tony's shoulder as he leans in to squint at the electronic lights. Beneath him, Tony shifts in the chair so he can keep typing and support the additional force of Steve's lean. The Captain reaches up and slides his fingers through the air. The images projected bob in mid air around his touch.

"Hands off, please."

"Sorry," Steve says, and plucks Tony's mug up off the table top. Tony frowns as his eyes leave the screen to track his caffeine.

The Captain does his best to look innocent as he stalks backwards toward the door to the workshop, cup in hand, but the look is ruined when he cocks a challenging eyebrow back Tony's way.

That's all it takes to tempt the workaholic away from his project and into an elevator.

Steve's eyes are alight with child-like glee as the door slides shut behind the billionaire. Tony just has eyes for his mug, or so he's aiming to appear, and only recognizes he's been successfully led away from his lab when the small square room starts to slide upwards toward the mess hall floor of HQ.

"Got ya," Steve says around a grin.

Tony snorts and turns his back on the Captain, petulant. The other man laughs and loops his arms around Tony's waist and lets gravity draw them both back into the far wall of the elevator. Tony plucks the mug from Steve's fingers as it threatens to slosh, his other hand catching on the crux where Steve's forearms are crossed over his stomach for some additional stability. The Captain slides his head easily against the band of muscle at Tony's shoulder and neck, resting his chin there contentedly as he glances up to watch the numbers above the door light up in turn.

They stand back-to-front against the far wall of the elevator watching the numbers light up, Tony snug in Steve's arms, and they part only when the door opens at their floor of destination.

It's when Tony is sitting down next to Bruce and Clint, as Natasha is pulling the garlic bread out of the oven and telling Thor to grab a pair of tongs, that he pauses to catch a glimpse of what's become the norm.

Bruce's fingers are running over the tendons just under the flesh at Clint's wrist. The stroking is incredibly casual, unconscious even, and apart from where Bruce has Clint's firing arm trapped under his fingertips the two men are equally engrossed in separate activities. At the oven Thor is laughing as Natasha warns him for the fifth time not to try grabbing at the out-of-the-oven pan without mits. There's apologies from Thor and he turns her hand over in his to kiss the backside. Natahsa snatches her hand away like she's the one that's been burnt, but only so she can scold Thor further before grabbing his hands and turning them over so she can kiss his upturned palms. A hand lands on his shoulder and Tony scoots over before being asked so Steve can pull up his chair at Tony's left. The hand stays longer than is necessary, lingers a little after the table's been laid out with garlic bread, and then slips away as Steve starts in eating with the rest.

Tony leans back a little in his seat as Bruce heaps some pasta onto his plate and asks him about the flamethrower project. The billionaire doesn't care about how Bruce knows what he's been working on, or how his coffee cup got refilled between getting in and sitting down to eat, or if Thor is announcing some bizarre experiment to test the limits of their personal space.

He turns his fork in the pasta noodles and kicks his feet under the table, knocking into both Bruce and Steve's ankles on either side of him, and is content when he gets knocked back.

* * *

They're on the couch when things go wrong.

A little hawaiian girl and her blue alien dog were scrambling across the screen when Jane walked into the room. She was quiet, as she usually was coming into another room, because that's polite and Jane isn't lacking in manners. But she walks into Natasha splayed across Thor's lap with her head against Bruce's thighs and her own legs flung at the knee over Thor's forearm. Jane comes in quietly, and there are cries and explosions coming from the television, so no one notices her when she comes in and no one notices when she slips back out the way she came in.

They notice the next day when Thor goes around like a cloud gathering in on itself getting ready to pour.

The next few days are an exercise in observation and everyone realizes just how touchy-feely they've become. No one finds it odd to have their hands on someone else, or their shoulder, or their head, and if Tony didn't know any better he'd guess from some of the things he walked in on that everyone was sleeping together.

"I didn't even think about it that way," Steve admits when Bruce pulls away from where he's been sitting against his chest. "We were just watching the Discovery channel."

The way that it breaks on everyone is distressing. Steve stops slipping his arms around people and Bruce goes out of his way to read books alone instead of seeking out Natasha or Clint to lean against. The Archer takes to practicing at the target range when they're not being called to the battlefield and Tony buries himself in Stark Industries business. Steve tries to find things to occupy himself with but out of all of them he's the one least able to handle the sudden switch back to the way they were before.

_Before what_, he has to ask as he wanders the empty halls of HQ, hands stuffed in his pockets.

His wandering takes him around the entire building once and from what he can see out the few windows he passes there's a storm building. It isn't long before New York is under a sweep of grey and the sound of pattering covers everything equally. Steve finds his feet on the way to the TV room. Watching something sounds appealing, and he's at the threshold of the room before he realizes that it's only appealing because watching a show usually means being next to one of his teammates and friends.

He hesitates at the door frame and shakes his head. But then he hears sound from the other side of the door and doesn't walk off.

It isn't the TV, he realizes as he strains to hear over the echo of falling rain. It's Thor and Jane.

He shouldn't be eavesdropping. He shouldn't, but he's right there, and suddenly his feet feel like they're sunk in concrete.

_'...understand, it isn't complicated... have to because they're here all the time, and when I'm not...'_

_'...like that. I would never betray your trust, Jane. These are my teammates. I have eyes for one person alone, and that is you.'_

Steve leaned closer to the door. Thor's voice was low but still audible. Jane's words were muffled and harder to hear.

_'...honestly think that I can't tell? Do you... can 't see the signs? You had... across your lap, Thor!'_

_'Please, Jane, calm yourself. There is no truth to your fears. This I promise you.'_

_'What good are promises from a man who can't keep his hands off other people?'_

The Captain jerked away from the door like he'd been electrocuted. His boot made a distinct sound against the floor when he stepped back and the conversation from the other room came to a distinct halt. He is stock still for a few moments. Then he let out a breath and went to open the door and apologize.

He doesn't get to, as the door slides open before he can touch it, and Jane apologizes as she shoulders past with wet eyes.

Thor's look after her is confused and frustrated and apologetic. He is absolutely lost.

"She fears I have been unfaithful to her," he says, achingly. "She thinks..."

Steve doesn't think twice and walks right up to him, clapping a hand to his shoulder, and looks him in the eye. "It'll be okay," he promises, giving the god's frame a solid shake, "Talk to her. Don't let her assume things, and don't assume anything. Make sure you're both on the same page." Thor nods slowly and suddenly Steve is crushed in a pair of thick arms, and he's more than a little breathless as Thor lets him go. He's smiling and he looks resolute as he claps Steve on the shoulder in return, thanking him for his advice, and making for the door.

The Captain watches him go and sinks onto the couch. He stares at the blank screen of the TV and listens to the rain falling outside and wonders what he would have done before.

Two hours pass and the rain keeps falling, and nothing comes to mind.

Steve gets off the couch and gets on his bike.

* * *

It makes sense that it began with Thor. It makes sense that Thor would be the one to gather them all up again, but he isn't.

Clint is picking up arrows from the practice range when he recognizes that he's no longer alone. Then he picks up the rest of his arrows and asks Bruce if he'd like to try his hand at the bow. "Sure," Bruce says, and Clint spends the afternoon showing him how to draw across his chest and keep his elbow level with his chin. They toss tips and quips and don't notice when the sound of rain fades into nothing. Bruce stretches after four more rounds of shooting and the way he groans at the way his muscles stretch gets a laugh out of his teammate.

"Let's hit the showers," Clint says sympathetically, "You'll probably be feeling that in the morning."

"I'm feeling it _now_," Bruce complains, but he lets Clint lead him from the range, and says nothing when the Archer joins him and Natasha for the first meal they haven't squirreled away to eat in solitude in a week.

Steve is sketching when the doctor asks if he can read in the same space. Steve nods and scoots over, and Bruce opens a book with his knees to Steve's hip. Steve keeps on sketching and Bruce turns the pages over as he finishes them. When he gets up to go Steve comes with him.

The four of them are suiting up to answer a call to duty when Thor comes in, armor donned, wearing a frown.

"Where is Tony Stark?"

There is a three-day nuclear fission convention that gets crashed by a national icon and a Norse god, and Tony is loudly indignant about the manhandling until they're out of ear shot and he all but collapses against Thor's shoulder. The thunder god is startled but Steve has to fight a smirk when the billionaire threatens bodily harm to Thor's person should he even think about putting him down.

He is dialing something on a phone and his suit comes ricocheting out of the air when Thor literally throws him and Steve into the fray.

They're in the pool eight hours later instead of the showers when Jane comes in to do a few laps.

She pauses in the door at the sight of everyone. The girl of the group is wearing a conservative one piece suit, but aside from the doctor in his purple pants, the rest of them are naked. They're splashing around like they can vanquish one another with water and still slick with sweat and laughing like they haven't just spent the last few hours putting their lives on the line to protect the city. Then Thor catches sight of Jane and calls out for her to join them.

Everyone kind of stops like deer in headlights.

There's some very minute shuffling of feet, Tony and Steve ducking behind Thor and Bruce respectively, Clint sinking down a bit so the water obscures the view of his lap, and for a terrible moment Steve can't help but think they've ruined something completely.

Jane stares at Thor. Thor is still bright-eyed and has an arm open in an obvious gesture of invitation. He's also completely naked in the pool with three other naked men.

The line of her mouth settles firmly as she drops her towel by her sandals.

"I'm mad as hell," she quotes, breaking into a jog toward the pool edge, "And I'm not gonna take it anymore!"

She gives a great battle cry and catapults into the pool.

No one is expecting it so everyone goes down under the resulting splash.

Then Jane is dunking her boyfriend under by his hair and slapping water straight into Bruce and Steve's faces, and the rest of them can't let that go unavenged, and everyone cries their own battle cries and the splashing resumes fiercely. It's a dirty fight despite the abundance of water, with much hair-pulling and ankle-grabbing and lots of water in the eyes. More than one person gets dunked after Jane joins the fray. There's wailing and jeers and people team up and betray their teammates on the turn of a dime, splashing whoever is closest from moment to moment, and everyone's exhausted after so no one objects when Thor suggests they towel off and pile up in front of the TV. The couch isn't big enough for everyone so they shove it out of the way and put pillows down everywhere. They arrange themselves haphazardly, limbs over limbs, and Jane doesn't mind when she ends up sharing Thor's side with Tony Stark or when Natasha asks if she can lean against her leg. They're snoring half-way through Cinderella.

Coulson comes in to turn the TV off and someone snakes out a hand to catch his ankle. He protests soft enough so the others don't wake but there are eight people in the pile when morning comes.

* * *

They're at a gala event for some prize that Tony's won. Well, _Pepper_ is at the gala, and Tony is god-knows-where doing Lord-knows-what. She accepts the award and makes apologies and delivers a much prettier speech than anything anyone has come to expect from Tony Stark. The night isn't a disaster and so Pepper resolves to leave Tony a small patch of hair when she gets back to Stark Tower with plans of shaving the deserting bastard in his sleep.

It's two-forty-eight AM when she finally finds him but she has to set aside the scissors because Tony Stark is not asleep alone.

It isn't the first time Pepper has caught her boss sleeping with someone but it's the first time she's come upon him sleeping with so many someones. It's also the first time she's come upon him sleeping with people she knows are dedicated to certain people. Thor, for example, is dating Jane, and-

Pepper has to pause because Natasha rolls over enough to reveal the slender form of a dark-haried lady scientist.

So Thor and Jane are a pretty loose couple, then, she figures, but she knows for a _fact_ that Agent Barton has been trying to talk to Agent Coulson-

Who is curled up under Steve Rogers about two people over.

Pepper is struggling to come up with a reasonable explanation for what she's stumbled upon. Tony she can understand. Thor and Jane, _maybe_, though they didn't seem the type. But as much as she's talked with Agent Coulson, he seems like the monogamous kind of guy. Maybe she doesn't know him as well as she thought she did? Pepper is wrestling with the unfamiliar concept of accepting that maybe everyone is in a pile because that's just the way things are.

Then someone reaches out and she finds herself on the floor, hissing at the sudden drop and rubbing her bum.

"Hey," Tony murmurs from beneath Bruce, soft enough to not wake the others, "Fancy seeing you tonight."

"Tony," Pepper whispers, "What is all this?"

"Wasn't there some fancy to-do tonight?"

"You won two awards," she confirms, "I was going to shave your head for not showing up."

Tony smiles sleepily. "That's my girl."

He's tugging and she shakes her head. "I'm not a pile person, Tony."

"But you could be."

"But I'm really not," she says, and she's trying to pull back to get away, she really is, but Tony Stark is Iron Man and despite his lazy lifestyle outside of saving the world he's got a great grip when he figures out what he wants.

"Be a pile person for one night."

"There's no room," Pepper tries.

Tony gestures and suddenly, though it has been there all along, Pepper can see the gap between Tony's chest and Thor's hip, a little to the left of Natasha and Jane, and she swallows as she lets Tony drag her down.

"There is a Pepper Potts sized hole right here," Tony murmurs as the redhead bows her forehead against the arc reactor.

She has to tuck her legs a little but Natasha and Jane scoot minutely and suddenly she's exactly where she belongs. It's nearly three in the morning. She has spent the entire day being Pepper Potts, a wonder-woman executive powerhouse, right up until this moment.

Tony murmurs something encouraging but Pepper doesn't hear it because she is already asleep.

* * *

There's a situation across the country and suddenly they have to be superheroes again.

An army of robots ravages Los Angeles. Thor and the Hulk are tearing into the front lines. Hawkeye is seventy stories up and sighting the patterns of attack between assaulting the flying models and picking off any drones headed for civilian areas. The Captain and Black Widow are further downtown trying to take out the radio tower giving them gas and Iron Man is in the skies blasting bots everywhere. There's smoke, and sparks, and more explosions than anyone can keep count of.

They don't stop fighting because the sun sets. The robots don't care that it's too dark to see and continue their march on the city.

Morning sees ruined metal for blocks and blocks. It also sees everyone more exhausted than they've been in weeks.

Thor is resting against a building and has his cape tucked over Bruce, who's back to being Midgardian-sized instead of monster-sized, and is completely unharmed besides being naked. Natasha has Steve across her thighs and is folded over across the broad planes of his back, his Shield tucked over her own back to cover the both of them. Tony has enough juice in the suit left to propel him right up to Clint's side and he comes down with a crunch of concrete. Clint blinks an eyeball open and greets him with a grunt. Tony flips up the faceplate and give Clint a tired greeting.

"I dunno about you, but I really need a shower," Clint says when Tony comes clunking over and stands next to him.

Clint gets his wish half an hour later when three jets sweep in over LA and pick them up.

Each of the jets has one working bathroom, including a tiny tiny shower.

"I love your money," Clint is saying as he and Tony race to get out of their suits to be in the shower first. Hawkeye has the decided advantage, though, and Tony quietly suffers as the sound of cold water rushing over his teammate's sweat-soaked body pulls a pornographic moan of relief from the archer. Not for the first time, Tony curses as his armor takes longer than is practical to get out of, and by the time he's wrenching the shower door open he's had to hear Clint moaning and muttering and is ramrod stiff. Clint is leaned against the shower's far wall with his jaw loose and his eyes shut, his shoulders dropped low against the shower wall to support his head, tilted back and dripping from everywhere. Tony has to clear his throat twice to get his attention.

"You shouldn't make those kind of noises unless you want to deal with the consequences," Tony chides.

He is moving back to let Clint finish his shower in peace when the other man deliberately drops the bar he's been holding and shoots Tony a clear invitation through lust-laden eyes. "_Oops_," Clint is saying, and Tony nearly breaks the door to get behind him when he bends over for it.

Bruce and Natasha are sponging off in another jet. It's too much trouble to wait for one another, and they're perfectly fine sharing the small space. Bruce tries to apologize three times for scaring Natasha out of her mind but she just shushes him and keeps rubbing at his back and shoulders. When he's clean they switch so she's in front and he's behind her, and the water is lovely and cool against the curve of her breasts. Bruce asks before he sponges her off. He's careful to only wipe where she wants help and nowhere else. When they're clean, there are fuzzy towels and a single bed which they share once they're less damp, and Bruce puts on tea for two as they stretch out against the sheets and Natasha hums as they wait for the water to boil.

Steve and Thor cannot share the shower. They just barely fit by themselves, so Steve waits while Thor uses up most of the hot water. When he comes out, Thor is glistening, and towel-less. Steve tries hard not to look but Thor is impossible to miss.

The thunderer catches Steve's wandering eyes and offers his teammate an apologetic grin.

"I am flattered by your look of appreciation, friend Steve, but I must dissuade you from pursuing your thoughts, if I have guessed correctly. In years past would I have gladly shared my body with my fellow sheildbrothers but my devotion is now to the sweet Lady Jane."

Steve takes on a cherry red and shakes his head. "That's not-"

But Thor is already laughing good-naturedly and slapping Steve on the shoulder. Steve grins sheepishly, yeah, joke's on him, but he's only human and when Thor turns around to towel off his hair he steals another glance. Thor is big, even at rest, and Steve can't help but wonder. Thor catches him staring a second time and correctly catches onto his train of thought.

"Ah! Did you wish to make a contest of girth?"

"A what?" Steve asks, mildly concerned.

"To see which of us is larger when aroused," Thor continues, and Steve's brain goes haywire when Thor goes to grab his dick.

"I'm sorry, what-"

"I have already bested Tony Stark and Hawkeye in this contest," Thor is saying and Steve is trying to figure out the polite way to say what in the name of all things merciful but he can't concentrate because Thor's hand is around his-

"Once I compared myself to my brother, though I am sure now that he cheated," Thor is saying, though Steve's hearing none of it, his brain is quickly shutting down, "He is a shape shifter and I should have known he would use craft to come out on top. But by trick or by truth, it was a sight! His length came down nearly to his knees-"

Steve shot to his feet and fled to the shower.

* * *

He's down in the gym and trying not to think. They've all been so close, but there's a part of Steve that can't handle certain things, and he's throwing himself into a punching bag to try and forget what line was crossed. He remembers being up for upwards of twelve hours fighting robots, but all he can remember is the panic in the jet, and he punches to forget it. He's hitting so hard that the sand is coming out of the seams and when Tony says his name Steve sends the bag clear across the gym.

He's heaving and sweating and his eyes are wild.

Tony puts both hands up.

"I can put on the suit if you need to go a few rounds."

Steve nearly says yes. His arms burn with the strain and his thighs are swollen and searing hot. He is dripping from every pore in his body. There is sand in piles on the floor around his feet.

"I don't-" He stops short, panting. Tony waits and doesn't tease him as Steve catches his breath. "No. I'm good."

"_Are_ you?" There's something like concern under Tony's confrontational front.

"Shouldn't you be unconscious?" Steve asks, crossing the gym to pick up the punching bag. Everyone else is. Natasha, Clint, and Bruce all took to the couch the minute they touched down and piled on Thor. Coulson came in half an hour after and turned off the TV that no one was watching. Steve knows all this because Coulson came in and left a water bottle for him about twenty minutes ago and told him as much.

Tony is still waiting for an answer. Steve reaches for the water instead.

"Thor said you freaked out on the jet," Tony says when no answer is forthcoming from the Captain. "You holed yourself up in the shower and wouldn't come out. He didn't say what happened and I don't want to ask, but you just spent fourteen hours on the battlefield and you're down here trying to break a new record for going through punching bags."

Steve slammed the water bottle down and met Tony's stare.

"I'm not gay," he snarled.

"Neither is Thor," Tony said.

Steve is breathing a little less hard.

"Bruce is asexual," Tony continues, snatching the water bottle from Steve and tipping it back for a long swallow, "Natasha and I swing both ways. And Clint is ninety-five percent homosexual when Natasha isn't around."

"Why are you telling me this?" Steve asks. Tony levels him with a look.

"Because you panicked," Tony says, "and when Thor wouldn't give me any details I did some digging." He held up a hand to stunt anything Steve wanted to say about invasions of privacy or hacking SHIELD's surveillance. "You panicked and you completely shut out Thor, who has no clear cut concept of triggers or that not everyone's gonna be into comparing dick sizes. He crossed a line and that's on him, but it's on you to let him know what you're comfortable with."

The Captain blinks the sweat out of his eyes and feels a kind of total exhaustion sweep over him all at once. He nearly breaks the bench when he drops on it. His fingers meets Tony's when the billionaire hands him his water back.

"You don't have a problem with touching men," Tony observes as Steve tips his head back for a long draught, "But you don't want to be anywhere near their dicks."

Steve coughs as he chokes on his water. Tony thumps his back until he can breathe right.

"Yeah," Steve says when he can talk without wheezing. "I think that's it."

"Well tell Thor that," Tony says, "And don't be vague about it or he'll misunderstand you and I'll have to miss out on pile time to come and make sure you're not breaking everything in the gym."

He sits down next to Steve and Steve notices the entire person's worth of space between them.

"You're sweating," Tony points out, and Steve snorts.

He hits the showers a second time that day and meets Tony in the elevator. They ride up in silence elbow to elbow and no closer, and Tony steps out of the elevator to lead the Captain back to the TV room. Everyone is snoring quietly and with some care they don't wake anyone up when they come in. Jane waves them over as the door slides shut behind them.

Tony toes off his four-hundred dollar shoes and sprawls on the outskirts of everyone's limbs. Steve pauses at the door but only to remove his boots. He takes meticulous care in doing everything quietly but he's really stalling. There's no pressure, though, and when he does come over Jane is drawing up a blanket to hand him. He slots himself neatly between the lady scientist and Tony, squirming minutely to get comfortable before settling with his knee against Jane's ankles and leaning with the back of his head to Tony's bicep.

He whispers to Jane softly, an inquiry to her day and an apology for keeping Tony from everyone. Jane bops him on the nose with a knuckle and tells him he's forgiven, whispers about how she was working on modifications to the Bifrost project, talks with Steve until his nerves are soothed.

"I need to talk to Thor," he admits finally. Jane nods and smoothes back his bangs.

"You'll do fine. Follow your own advice from when you told him to come after me," she suggests. Steve cracks a small smile and shuts his eyes.

_Everything will be okay,_ he thinks. And it is.

* * *

It has happened slowly, over time and not without bumps in the road. Like the unfolding of a flower or the creeping of a vine up the chain links in a wire fence. Clint says it was bound to happen, but Natasha thinks that everything fell into place so easily because Thor led by example. Tony claims whatever credit he can and neither Bruce nor Steve care who's right because who started what doesn't matter. All that matters is that they all fit now. Where someone wasn't was a sliver of space. The empty places at people's backs and against their sides slowly filled. And in the middle of it all, leading everyone around with magnetic charisma, was Thor, with a million-watt smile and wide warm arms. It might be Coulson who never forgets when Tony is in need of extra caffiene, or Bruce who always knows where to find Clint and Natasha after they've holed themselves up following tough training days, or Steve who is happy to abandon anything in the name of giving Pepper or Tony or anyone one more warm embrace.

It's Thor who comes to get them at the end of the day.

He lifts most of them bodily, carrying his beloved mortal teammates and letting them rest their heads against the planes of his chest or shoulder. Coulson is fussing over a mountain of pillows when Thor brings in Tony. The billionaire holds onto Thor as he's deposited onto the floor, drags Thor down a bit, and the golden god lets Tony hold their heads together at the crown. He hums in content and brings both his hands up to cover Tony's.

_It's just so goddamn nice,_ Tony thinks, and he's one lucky sonuvabitch to have teammates who care about him this way, who have grown to be so close and who trust each other so intimately.

"I shall return, Tony Stark," Thor promises, his hands squeezing gently around Tony's.

"I wasn't worried about that," Tony murmurs as he lets go Thor's hands and allows Coulson to pull him back into the pillows, "Just feels nice."

"I know," Coulson says from behind him, and Tony lets his eyes flutter shut.

He's tucking the playboy against something hideously tye-dyed when Thor comes back with Steve literally in his arms. Tony snorts from the pillow pile.

"You look ridiculous," he informs them. Thor smirks, all good nature and content, and Steve kicks his heels a bit from where they dangle over the edge of Thor's grip.

"I dunno. I think we make a fetching pair," he contends, and looks up at the bulkier blonde with a twinkle in his eye. Tony gags exaggeratedly from the pile as Thor laughs and obligingly leans down to peck Steve against his upturned cheek.

"You two look adorable," Jane agrees from the door as she and Pepper stride in laden with blankets. Her boyfriend grins and sets his teammate back among the cushions so Coulson can arrange him as he did with Tony. The two national icons lean shoulder to shoulder and let the Agent work the pillows around them. "Shield paying you overtime for this?" Tony guesses. Coulson tugs and the pillow under Tony's head comes out with a whuff. Tony's head hits the floor with a thump and Steve chuckles as Thor comes back into the doorway with Natasha draped against his front and Clint slung over one shoulder.

Pepper is talking quietly with Coulson and they work out the pillows as the smaller pair slides off of Thor and curl in on each other to the left of Steve. Tony reaches over to tug at Natasha's hair but Clint's hand flashes out like lightning and slaps him off. Steve can't help but laugh as Tony draws the stinging digits to his mouth to suck at them tenderly.

"You deserved that," he says when Tony demands Steve avenge him.

"Hush," Coulson chides, plopping a pillow down between them, "and please don't antagonize Agent Romanoff."

To his credit, Tony waits until Thor comes in with Bruce to try pulling her hair again.

Steve doesn't stop Pepper when she leans down to smother the man beside him with a pillow.

"Is that everyone?" Bruce asks as Jane draws a blanket up for him. Tony gives a last flail and lets his limbs fall dramatically. Steve accepts a blanket from Coulson with a quiet word of thanks and then helps him draw another over the two to his left.

"I passed the Director's office, but Commander Fury was not in," Thor says with a hint of dismay.

"You tried to invite Nick?" Tony asks once he's free of the pillow.

"He is our Commander," Thor says as he settles beside Bruce. "He is a warrior, and worthy of respect. It would be an honor to have him to join us."

"I don't see him being much of a pile person," Tony mutters.

"I'm not a pile person," Pepper says as she slips into the gap between Bruce and Tony, "but someone invited me, and now I'm not sure how I got a good night's sleep in before this." She looks at Tony meaningfully and then tucks her head to his shoulder. The corners of his mouth twitch and Coulson is arranging a pillow by his ankles when he pulls out his phone and taps out something against the cool metal touchpad.

He pretends Pepper is smirking against his chest because she's comfortable, not because Tony is texting his boss.

Clint and Natasha seem to already getting a good night's sleep, nestled deep against the cushions. Jane is sliding into the space between Bruce and Thor. Coulson is still pushing and pulling at the pillows. No one tells him not to because the man knows somehow to arrange everything so that no one suffers from cricks in the neck or sore spots the next morning. Steve stretches his shoulders as Tony puts away his phone. They're all settled and everyone is drawn under a blanket when Coulson finally finds a pillow for himself. He sets it against the floor next to Clint's back when the sliding door opens.

Fury's mouth twitches at the corner. "I was told there was a situation requiring my immediate attentions," he says as he steps over the threshold, "Stark?"

From somewhere around the middle of everyone Tony waves a hand.

"Thor couldn't find you to invite you," he says, "So this is your personal invitation. Come be a pile person."

The Director finds one of his best men on the far end of the line of superheroes.

"Agent Coulson, is there something you'd like to fill me in on?"

The man at the end of the pile holds up a blanket.

"This is 100% cotton," Coulson says.

Fury's creased brow doesn't so much as twitch.

"This was a terrible idea," Tony hisses into Pepper's hair. "Quiet," Pepper hisses back, and flicks his abs. Next to them, Steve lets out a breath and rolls into the meat of Tony's back. Tony takes the hints and bites his tongue.

"I don't think he'll be joining us," Jane murmurs apologetically into Thor's clavicle. The thunder-god gives a shrug and tries not to look disappointed. Bruce reaches over Jane's shoulder to pat Thor comfortingly and adjusts his hips so Pepper can lean her back more solidly against his. Everyone is covered by blankets by this point but Fury's single eye can see the way they're all heaped together over one another beneath the fabric.

"What is this?" Fury asks finally.

No one answers at first because no one can think of one thing that covers it. There are so many dynamics at work that no one can name them all, let alone lump them under a single category.

"Team building exercise," Clint's muffled voice answers from under Natasha's arm. "Get in or get out."

Besides Tony's snort and the sound of two people swatting him, there's utter silence following that.

Then the tapping of boots against carpet, and Coulson is up again to arrange the pillows by Nick's head.

"That's fine," Fury mutters, but there's a soft hum of warning from around Clint.

"Let the man work his magic," Natasha murmurs from under her covers. Fury settles at the edge of everyone as Coulson arranges him against a pillow and under a blanket.

At the opposite end of everyone, Thor thrums with pleased energy. It's leaking, it must be, because suddenly Steve can't close his eyes.

"Cut that out," Tony moans. "You'll keep us all up."

"I am sorry, my friends," Thor whispers, audibly struggling to reign himself in, "it is an unexpected turn of events, and a very pleasant one at that. I am having trouble finding calm."

"Someone smother Sparky," Fury ordered, "I can feel his jittery ass buzzing from all the way over here."

Tony snorted as Thor's girlfriend caught the back of his head and tucked Thor's face into her shoulder.

It was incredibly effective, though, for the restless energy coming from Thor's end of their line dimmed. A few minutes later there was a decided peace. Coulson reached up one more time to press a pillow at the tip of the pile and then clapped his hands. The lights dimmed to almost complete darkness. The quiet breathing of ten people was like the magic of rain against a window and slowly sank people to sleep. Clint and Natasha drifted off, then Pepper and Bruce and Steve. Coulson tucked his head to Clint's shoulder and dropped off around the same time as Tony. Jane was walking her fingers along Thor's arm when the thunder-god pressed their foreheads together.

"There is a ritual I read of, Jane," he whispers, and it's an actual whisper for once, not something that can still be heard across a room, "before one falls asleep. One in a book of Midgard. For children."

"Which ritual is that?" Jane wonders, but she's on the edge of consciousness and toppling toward dreams.

"It is called Goodnight Moon," Thor tells her as she nods, "And I would like to try it. Do you think our friends would mind?"

"I don't think they'll mind much," Jane whispers, "Just do it quietly."

"I shall." He cups her hand in his and they shut their eyes as Thor takes to whispering softly.

_"In a great blue room, there was a war lord,_

_and all his warrior friends,_

_and pillows aplenty,_

_and blankets for all,_

_and sweet dreams to be had._

_Goodnight room, Goodnight moon_

_Goodnight Thor, thunder god_

_Goodnight sweet Lady Jane_

_Goodnight Bruce, healer of hurts_

_Goodnight good Lady Pepper Pots_

_Goodnight Tony, man of Iron_

_Goodnight Captain Steve Rogers_

_Goodnight Hawk, Goodnight Widow_

_Goodnight good friend, Son of Coul_

_Goodnight Director, come at last_

_Goodnight light, Goodnight air_

_Goodnight noises everywhere."_

When the last line falls from his lips, there is not a soul left not sleeping, not even himself.


End file.
